“Why, I must acknowledge it has extraordinary attractions,” replied the young merchant. “It is generally difficult to obtain,—its pursuit is usually attended with much hazard, but then there is such an excitement in the effort made to possess it, and such a splendour accompanying its possession, that difficulties and dangers ought not to be considered by those by whom it is sought.”
“Exactly,” responded the captain, with more than usual cordiality; “and they only can obtain glory who express such sentiments.”
“But it is uncertain as yet what definition you give to the idea you call glory,” remarked the oldest member of the party,—a man rather above the medium height, and considerably beyond the middle age, with a large head, nearly bald, prominent nose, and deep-set eyes, well shaded by a pair of thick grisly eyebrows. His features were somewhat stern in their expression, apparently more from the result of continual reflection than from want of kindly feeling; and although they indicated considerable mental power, a consciousness of superiority betrayed itself quite as conspicuously. It may easily be imagined that this was the learned Professor Fortyfolios. “The consideration of any abstract idea,” continued the professor, who, it will be observed, having been a public lecturer in the university of Columbus, had acquired a more important manner of expressing his sentiments than was usual in conversation. “The consideration of any abstract idea, appears under different circumstances in the minds of different individuals, but this is as much the result of an habitual tendency to certain associations in the person who considers the subject, as the consequence of the variety of organisations that exist in society. Scarcely any two persons are to be met with whose reflective faculties pursue the progress of ratiocination exactly in the same manner,—because no two individuals being exactly alike, and the mind being a portion of the self, partaking of its individuality, as in a mirror, the shadow is a resemblance of the features, each must receive its own separate impressions, and consider them in its own peculiar manner. It follows, as a natural consequence, that the thoughts of the speaker will partake of his individual habitude, and that his conception of glory, or any other abstract idea, will be coloured by his particular way of life.”
“Well, I don’t know in what latitude abstract ideas may be found,” said the captain, a little puzzled by the professor’s explanation; “but I think any body knows the landmarks of glory. If I saw a little ship manned by a few brave spirits, fight a ship double its size, or may be two ships or may be three, defended by a crew as superior in numbers; and after raking her fore and aft, smashing every thing to splinters, and cutting every thing to rags, pipe all hands to board, and sweep away the enemy from their own decks into the sea, and after that sail away with the prize, I should call that glory.”
“The action is glorious no doubt,” observed Oriel Porphyry, “but it does not realise my conception of glory. I imagine a man, in the truest sense of the word, living in a country groaning under the despotism of a tyrant, and having that spirit of freedom in his nature, which must always accompany greatness; and that uncontrollable energy of valour in his character, which is its element, pointing out to his fellow-sufferers the cause of their slavery, stirring in their hearts an unconquerable love of independence, and after gathering them together by twos and threes, then by hundreds and thousands, and lastly, by resistless multitudes, at their head attacking the hordes of armed plunderers by whom their subjugation had been effected; driving them from the tented field to the battlemented wall, and from the battlemented wall to the grave; and when not a trace of tyranny remained throughout the land, I imagine that man the liberator of his country, and the emancipator of its people, honoured as he ought to be, and possessed with the power with which their gratitude should invest him, conducting the nation he had enfranchised to the highest degree of prosperity and greatness—and I call that glory.”
“Then my notion of the same idea differs materially from those you have given,” said the professor. “In the first place, there are two antagonist principles, from which all good and ill emanate—intelligence and ignorance; and only according to the predominance of the former can we judge of the extent of the excellence of any thing. As we know that all which is beneficial proceeds from intelligence, and that without intelligence nothing good can arise, and that without good there can be no such thing as glory, it must be evident that he who produces intelligence acquires the truest and greatest glory. The philosopher who spends laborious days in amassing knowledge by observation and study, which he distributes to the whole world, and whose labours continue to the end of time to ennoble and refine mankind; in the fame with which his name must be inseparably connected among all generations, and wherever civilisation exists, realises, in my opinion, the only true idea of glory the human mind can conceive.”
“I beg leave to differ from you all,” cried a stout little man (whose round, rosy face bore the perfect expression of good humour), sitting opposite the professor, and whose professional conversation proclaimed him to be Dr. Tourniquet, “I beg leave to differ from you all, don’t you see. I cannot imagine glory to belong to anything that does not tend to alleviate the sufferings or remove the diseases of the human frame, don’t you see. Life is subject to a multitude of maladies—from the cradle to the grave there is a constant succession of aches and pains, and few escape without experiencing disorders more or less dreadful. Now my idea is, that evil and good are but other names for pain and pleasure, don’t you see; that he who lessens the quantity of evil is alone entitled to the name of benefactor, which brings with it the greatest degree of glory it is possible to possess, don’t you see; and that, consequently, the man who devotes his life to procure others the enjoyment of health—who boldly ventures among the most malignant contagions to study their effects, and origins—who carefully examines every morbid structure in the living and the dead, at the greatest personal risk and inconvenience, till he becomes familiar with all its appearances and discovers its creating cause; and by long study of the properties of different medicinal substances, of external circumstances that tend to produce health or disease, and by his intimate acquaintance with the human body in every state in which it can be seen;—in my opinion, that man, who by knowledge thus acquired, and thus applied, through his example made public, being enabled to save or prolong the lives of millions of his fellow-creatures, and multiply the blessings of existence, in the admiration with which his name must always be regarded, is the only perfect conception of glory that can be entertained, don’t you see.”
“Pooh, pooh!” exclaimed the captain, somewhat contemptuously. “What glory can there be in giving a fellow a dose of physic?”
“Unless there be some ennobling sentiment in the mind, which is developed in great actions such as I have described, glory cannot exist,” said Oriel Porphyry.